


A cure I know that soothes the soul

by blackkat



Category: Naruto
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Forgiveness, Friends to More Than Rivals, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:49:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23418520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: “You want a rematch?” Lee asks, startled, and springs to his feet.Gaara looks unmoved, arms crossed over his chest and expression blank. Lee squints at him, but it’s not the angry sort of blank Neji generally is, which can be cracked with enough aggressive camaraderie. “Yes,” he says simply. “Our fight was not concluded…satisfactorily for all parties.”Behind Gaara, Temari slaps a hand over her face and groans.
Relationships: Gaara/Rock Lee
Comments: 75
Kudos: 1745





	A cure I know that soothes the soul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Effex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Effex/gifts).



“You want a rematch?” Lee asks, startled, and springs to his feet.

Gaara looks unmoved, arms crossed over his chest and expression blank. Lee squints at him, but it’s not the angry sort of blank Neji generally is, which can be cracked with enough aggressive camaraderie. “Yes,” he says simply. “Our fight was not concluded…satisfactorily for all parties.”

Behind Gaara, Temari slaps a hand over her face and groans.

Lee is mildly confused by that reaction, but hardly enough so to let it get in the way of a potential sparring match. He grins, giving Gaara a cheerful thumbs up, and says, “Yosh! I would be delighted to repeat our match from the Chuunin Exams!”

There's the faintest twitch to Gaara's expression, but it’s not Neji's annoyance or Tenten's frustration, and it’s hard for Lee to read it. “A fresh attempt,” Gaara says curtly, and turns on his heel, giving Temari a narrow look when she makes to follow. “We will be fine,” he tells her.

“You're the _Kage_ , and I'm your bodyguard,” Temari points out, but she stays where she is, frowning. “I'm supposed to guard you, Gaara.”

Gaara doesn’t even look back. “No one can harm me,” he says, and keeps walking.

When Temari casts an exasperated look at his back, Lee laughs. He pauses to bow to her, and says, “Temari! You're looking very well. Welcome back to our beautiful village!”

Temari looks at him for a long moment before her face breaks into a small smile. “Thank you, Lee,” she returns. “It’s good to be back. Gaara was looking forward to coming.”

Lee _beams_. “Yosh! The Springtime of Youth drew him back to Konoha, as it should be! Naruto will be sad he missed him, but he is still traveling with Jiraiya-sama!”

“We got a letter from him,” Temari says, amused. “A few weeks ago. It sounds like he’s getting into trouble.”

“He is learning how to be a truly strong person!” Lee says, overwhelmed by the thought. It’s beautiful enough to make him want to cry. “When he returns he will be strong enough to be a rival for anyone in the village!”

“ _Your_ rival?” Temari asks, and one corner of her mouth curves.

It seems, for a moment, that Gaara has paused at the edge of the tree-shadowed path and is listening very intently.

“Neji is my rival!” Lee says enthusiastically. “We have been rivals from our first day of training! Just like Kakashi-sensei and Gai-sensei! It is a wonderful thing to have my rival beside me so constantly!”

“I see. Well, good luck with your match, Lee.” Temari bows in return, shallowly, and sweeps past him, apparently giving up on guarding Gaara for now. Lee assumes it’s fine; Gaara is a very strong ninja, and there's no way anyone can capture him. Still, if there's a threat, Lee will do his duty as a shinobi of Konoha and eliminate it in defense of Suna's Kage. It’s only right. Temari has no need to worry about her brother when Lee is nearby. Lee likes Gaara. His effort to better himself as a man is quite inspiring, and his ability to grow is truly that of a Konoha shinobi, even if he comes from Suna.

Decided, Lee beams, bounding across the remaining distance between himself and Gaara. “Yosh! We will have a good rematch, Gaara! This is exciting! The fires of Youth burn in my chest, and I am determined to prove myself!”

Gaara's expression does that odd twitch again, and he looks away. “We will,” he says shortly, and Lee is mildly baffled by the tight line of his shoulders, the way he’s so pointedly ignoring him. This certainly isn't Neji's sort of reaction when he’s irritated. Neji breaks down and yells very quickly. Gaara is just sinking further into himself.

Maybe he really needs this spar, Lee thinks, hopeful. Sparring always makes _him_ feel better, and the fact that Gaara has come to him means he knows Lee's strength, respects it. Their match didn’t end well before, but Lee survived, and clearly he proved himself well enough for Gaara to pick him before all the other Konoha nin for a fight.

Grinning, Lee bounces on his toes as they walk, and says, “There is a sand pit in the training ground Team 7 usually uses! Let us spar there!”

Gaara pauses, frowning faintly. “I am fine without natural sand,” he says curtly, and his fingers brush the edge of his gourd. “Your usual training ground is perfectly acceptable.”

Lee laughs, and he doesn’t reach out to clap him on the back, even though he wants to. “You are very confident in your abilities, like a true ninja! It is admirable!”

Gaara looks away again. “This is it?” he asks.

Lee checks the path, and it’s one of the smaller ones, a side entrance into the sparring area that Lee usually takes when he’s late. “It is! This is my favorite of the training grounds. Team 9 has been using it since we first became genin.”

The expression that crosses Gaara's face at that has a strange amount in common with relief, even if it vanishes quickly. “Your sensei was Maito Gai,” Gaara observes, and it’s almost a question.

“Yes!” Lee says proudly. “Konoha's beautiful green beast! He is the man I aspire to become!”

A pause, and when Lee turns around, holding a branch out of the way, Gaara is watching him intently. There's a strange expression on his face, but he says nothing, and—

There's something bubbling in Lee's stomach. Something bright and effervescent and _warm_ , like he used to get when Sakura stared at him too long. It makes him blurt out, “Your hair, it’s the color of a spider lily!” without even thinking about it.

Gaara freezes. Then, instantly, he jerks a step away, spine pulling straight, and says flatly, “Here.”

Lee blinks, looking around them. They're at the very edge of the training ground, still in the trees, and from what Lee knows of Suna, there are practically no trees in the whole country. If they fight here, it will give Lee, Konoha-born and trained, a significant advantage, and Gaara is more than clever enough to know that.

“Are you sure?” he asks, concerned. “There is a clearing up ahead.”

“Yes,” Gaara says, flat, and takes a step back.

Offended, Lee thinks, with a sinking feeling in his chest. Clearly comparing his hair to a flower offended him, though Lee didn’t expect it to. Didn’t _mean_ it to.

He probably should have listened when Tenten told him which compliments were good to use, but _you're as pretty as a knife_ didn’t seem quite romantic enough at the time.

Still, Lee might not be good with words, but he’s good with fights. “Yes!” he says, glad for the distraction, and falls back, bringing his hands up. He’s been working on new combinations with Gai-sensei, and the chance to get to use them on someone who can actually take them and not get hurt is incredibly exciting. “Let us have a good match, where loss and victory are equally teaching and our manly pride pushes us to new heights!”

Gaara's exhale is almost heavy enough to be a hiss. “Pride,” he repeats, bitter, and sweeps a hand out.

Lee jerks into a backspring, launches himself clear of the lash of sand with one hard leap to land on the lowest branch of an oak, and pauses, wanting to frown. Gaara hadn’t needed to use his hands to direct his sand before. It’s a tell that’s too dangerous in a shinobi, even one as powerful as Gaara. And Gaara's too smart not to realize that, so the way he brings a hand up, quick and sharp, and steers a wave of sand right at Lee, is mildly unsettling.

Lee drops, hits the ground, and lunges. Judges his weights, the force they put behind a blow in contrast to the way they slow him down, and lashes out, the heel of his foot sweeping right at Gaara's head. Gaara takes one precise step back, eyes narrowing, but—

His hand comes up again, and it’s more than warning enough for Lee to flip over his head, land on his other side, and drive a knife-hand blow at Gaara's ribs. Hits sand, then leaps back, and grins.

“Your ultimate defense is still formidable, my friend!” he says, even though something itches at his spine. Something like uncertainty, or maybe alarm, held tight against his chest. “Between your defense and my speed, we are a good match!”

Gaara doesn’t answer. He presses a palm to his ribs for just a moment, mouth pulling down, and then raises a hand again. The ground beneath Lee's feet stirs, and he wrenches back, around, leaps clear and throws himself right at Gaara. Sand blocks the first kick, the second, and Lee twists around, gets behind him with a burst of speed and lashes out hard with his heel.

It’s like he isn't wearing his weights at all, the difference in speed between them. Gaara turns too slowly, his sand rises at a crawl. The heel of Lee's sandal catches him square in the temple with all of Lee's force behind it, and Gaara cries out, stumbling sideways.

Lee freezes, foot still raised, and something like horror curls hot-sharp through him.

“Gaara!” he says, alarmed, and abandons the match, crouching down next to Gaara and putting a hand on his back. “My friend, are you all right? Should I find Tsunade-sama?”

Gaara takes a breath, one hand still pressed to his head. Stays there for a long, long moment as Lee's heart tries to beat out of his chest, and then slowly, slowly lifts his head to look at Lee.

“No,” he says flatly, despite the trickle of blood down the side of his face. Despite the fact that one eye has gone black and gold as Shukaku shoves towards the surface. Lee can see the surge of determination and desperate will as Gaara pushes the bijuu back down, teeth gritted, and then says, “I'm fine.”

But—

Lee remembers their match during the Exams. For a long time, he had nightmares about it. And then, later, with help from his team and Gai-sensei’s wisdom, he had accepted the outcome, learned where he needed to improve. Gaara hadn’t destroyed his ability to be a shinobi; he’d hurt Lee and let him heal, and come back to try their fight again.

Except that isn't how this is going at all, and Lee can see that clearly. The hand motions, the speed, the fact that Lee actually landed that blow, even with his weights on—

Something else is happening here.

“My friend,” he says, and he’s not Gai, who always knows the right response to every problem, who can comfort with a handful of words and a reassuring pat on the back. “It is not a rematch if you have decided the winner before we even start.”

For a long, long moment, Gaara is perfectly silent. Then, quiet, he says, “I didn’t.”

Lee frowns down at him. “Lying is not necessary between friends,” he says sternly. “You were giving yourself a deliberate disadvantage in our match.”

“Are we?” Gaara asks harshly, and he still has a hand pressed to his temple, blood leaking though his fingers. “Friends. I tried to kill you. Cruelly.”

Lee blinks at him. “We were enemies then,” he points out, but that doesn’t uncurl Gaara's shoulders any. Frowning, Lee sinks back on his heels, and asks, “Do you think I am too weak to win a fair match between us, Gaara?”

“No,” Gaara says, careful. He’s watching Lee with a frown of his own, and a look in his eyes that Lee can't quite identify. “But—we are not friends. You value victory. I thought, if I lost a rematch…”

Lee stares at him, bewildered. “But if we did not both fight all-out, with the fires of Youth in our hearts and a desire for victory in our souls, it would not be winning!” he protests. “The only way to truly win is to devote yourself to the battle!” Pauses, lowering his fist, and says, “I thought we were already friends, Gaara. You apologized, after Tsunade healed me.”

Gaara's grimace is faint but painful. “I crippled you,” he says harshly. “For no reason. Even if we were enemies, it was unforgivable.”

“Clearly it wasn’t,” Lee says, stubborn, “because I have already forgiven you, Gaara.”

There's a pause, like this is a surprise. Like Gaara can't quite figure out what Lee means. Then, wary, he says, “But—what you said about my hair—” Cutting himself off, he looks away again, shoulders hunching, and says bitterly, “Spider lilies mean death. Like my name means monster.”

This isn't the effervescent bubbling from before. Lee's stomach twists, and it’s almost painful, almost unsettling the way his heart jars in his chest, like it wants to leap out and comfort Gaara directly. But—there’s an edge of daring to be found in the feeling, and Lee grabs that, reaches out. He touches Gaara's bright red hair, brushing his fingertips over the strands, and feels Gaara go still under his touch.

“Spider lilies are my favorite flower,” he confesses, and Gaara lifts his head. Looks right at Lee, startled, and there's blood running down the side of his face, smeared beside the kanji carved into his forehead.

With a little more of that same daring, Lee grins at him, reaching out to brush the blood away with his thumb.

“Death is only half of their meaning,” he says. “They can also mean rebirth! And their color is said to lead souls through the cycle of reincarnation. I think that is a beautiful thing, don’t you, my friend?”

For the first time since Lee's first kick landed in the arena, Gaara looks stunned. He stares at Lee for a long moment, then reaches up, touching his own hair like he’s never done so before. Looks down again, shoulders rounding, and says, “I'm sorry for the harm I did to you, Lee.”

Lee beams. “You have long since been forgiven, my friend,” he says, “but if it would help, I will forgive you again! I will forgive you as many times as it is necessary, because you have also been reborn, Gaara! You are not so cruel now.”

Gaara's breath is almost amusement, and he closes his eyes. “I still have to control Shukaku,” he says, “or I will be.”

“And I must control the strength of my blows, or I will injure someone dear to me!” Lee says. “We all control ourselves in different ways, Gaara. That you must try so hard simply means that the fires of Youth burn very bright in you!”

“Your blows won't level whole villages,” Gaara says, but there's no edge of darkness to it, and that’s enough to make Lee's heart lighter.

“Not _yet_ ,” he says cheerfully, and Gaara smiles just faintly. Slowly, he sits back, watching Lee, and hesitates.

“I didn’t take you seriously,” he says after a moment. “I apologize for that, too.”

Lee grins. “You were trying to give me something you thought I wanted,” he says easily. “I appreciate that, my friend!” Then, as a thought strikes him, he pauses, and says, “You wanted us to be friends very much.”

It’s not a question, but it still makes Gaara look away again, a grimace crossing his face. “I have been told,” he says, with a grim thread to it that makes Lee rock back, “that being friends is a valuable starting point.”

“Friends are very valuable,” Lee agrees, though he has a feeling that isn't the entirety of what Gaara means. “I would be overjoyed if you would consider me one of your friends, Gaara!”

This somehow doesn’t make Gaara look any happier. He stays where he is, hands fisted against his thighs, and then takes a breath. “I would like,” he says, carefully precise, “to someday consider us more than friends, Lee.”

Lee blinks. “You want to be… _rivals_?” he asks, stunned breathless, and his heart leaps. “I would be _honored_ , Gaara!”

“No,” Gaara says, faintly frustrated, and when Lee droops, he says, “Not…just rivals. I would like to—if you would accept, I would—I have admiration for you that is—”

He breaks off, hissing at himself, and fists a hand in his hair.

But—it’s enough. Lee thinks that he might possibly have an idea what Gaara means, and it bubbles up in his chest like water from a spring, like sunlight in summer, like joy. With a laugh, he leans forward, grabbing Gaara's hands in his own, and says, “Gaara, you're as pretty as a knife!”

Gaara's eyes go wide, and he freezes.

Clearly Tenten was on to something. Twisting their fingers together, Lee grips Gaara's a little more tightly and says, “If you would like to be more than friends, and more than rivals, I would be honored to do that as well, Gaara.”

Gaara stares, then slowly, carefully curls his fingers around Lee's. His thumb brushes over one of the scars on the back of Lee's wrist, and he takes a breath.

“Even after everything I did to you and to your village?” he asks quietly.

“Regardless of what you did, you feel remorse,” Lee insists. “I forgive you. There is no saying if anyone else will, but if you are trying, and you wish to be friends, I don’t see why they wouldn’t!”

“Then—I would like that, Lee.” Gaara offers him a small, faint smile, but it still makes Lee's chest feel like it’s been filled with light. “To be more than friends. More than rivals.”

Lee beams at him. “As would I, Gaara! So that means we are officially more than rivals now! I am overjoyed!”

Gaara makes a soft sound of amusement, then leans up. Tugging one hand from Lee's, he curls it into Lee's hair, just as Lee did to his, and asks, grave, “May I kiss you? Kankurō said that is acceptable when we are dating.”

 _Dating._ Lee wants to leap up, grab Gaara, and spin him around the training ground, laughing the whole way. But that would probably mean _not_ kissing him, and Lee would much rather try that first. “Yes!” he says. “Whenever you like, Gaara!”

Like he’s accepting a mission, Gaara leans in with intent, and—

His kiss feels like springtime, bright and blooming.


End file.
